


Gambits With A Ghost

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Fluff, Homestuck - Freeform, M/M, ghost au, ghost!John
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 04:31:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1128386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave Strider and his brother move into a house that turns out to be haunted by a teenage ghost named John Egbert. In the process of Dave trying to get John to move on to the other side, he becomes attached to him emotionally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not Alone

**Author's Note:**

> There it is. The first chapter of the first Homestuck fanfiction I ever cared about enough to post. It's a short chapter but this is just a trial run for the story. If it continues, then the chapters will be longer. I'm still not sure wether to make any other chapters, because I don't know if it will even get noticed, but for now, it's fun to write and I have time during classes to work on it. I think even if it doesn't get that many views, I'll still post other chapters, cause why not. To anyone who did read this chapter, thank you! I really truly appreciate it. Also, if there are any typos, I am sorry.

Your name is Dave Strider and you just finished unpacking your last box into your new home, and you are exhausted. You've been unpacking for hours. You can't believe how much shit you and your bro had in that tiny apartment in Houston. 

You collapse onto your newly made bed and close your eyes, already falling asleep, not caring that you're still fully dressed or that your lights are still on. You drift off almost instantly. When you wake up, it's dark and your shades are off and on your bedside table. Your shoes are off too and theres a blanket thrown lazily over you. You smirk, amused at Bro's gesture, but nevertheless grateful. You glance at the clock beside you and wince at the harsh green light blaring in contrast to the darkness of the room. You manage to make out 3:00 AM. You huff and let your head drop down into your pillow. Closing your eyes, you try to go back to sleep, but as you're drifting off, you hear a slight tapping coming from the window on the near side of the room. You open your eyes and sit up, looking at the window in confusion. You swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand up, walking over to the window and looking out.

You're expecting to see some dude with a boom box playing 80's love songs while throwing pebbles at your window, but to your disappointment, theres nothing there. You shake your head, blaming it on drowsiness as you walk back to your bed. As soon as you lay your head on the pillow, the tapping starts again, even louder. Your head snaps up in the direction of the window. "What the hell?" You say, extremely confused. The tapping stops, and is replaced by a hollow breathy giggle that circulates the room eerily, ending at you. Okay, that totally wasn't your imagination. You can't see anything there, but you definitely just heard a creepy ass giggle. A cold shuddering gust of wind tickles the back of your neck and you shiver, rubbing it with your hand.  _"get out of my house"_  you hear a voice being breathed into your ear. You jump and twist towards the voice, but again nothing's there. Fucking shit, your house is haunted. You take a shuddering breath and straighten yourself. Whatever the hell's messing with you, ghost or not, is not going to make you leave. You are not weak, and you intend to show that to this thing, whatever it is. You harden your expression, straighten your voice the best way you can, and say, "No."

Apparently that's not what it wanted to hear, because right after the word escapes your mouth, wind whips around the room and a hollow, piercing scream fills your hearing.  _"IT'S MY HOUSE. YOU'RE NOT WELCOME HERE. LEAVE."_ You keep yourself within a mask of indifference. "No." You repeat, crossing your arms. More screaming, and then when you thought nothing else could happen, the window previously being tapped on shatters with a thundering crash. Glass is flung all over the room, but none hits you. Then, the lights flicker, and everything stops. It's completely silent and still. Everything is left the same despite the broken window and a few things that fell off shelves during the chaos. You sit there shocked and intimidated, but not scared. Striders don't get scared.

Then, Bro bursts in, in only his boxers, holding a katana and whipping his head wildly around the room. "Dave, are you alright? I heard something." He says looking at you. "I'm fine Bro. Some freaky shit just went down in here though." You say gesturing to the side of the room where the window was destroyed. His eyes settle on the broken window. "What the FUCK happened?!" He thunders, swinging his katana towards the mess dramatically and looking straight into your very soul. "I told you Bro. Freaky. Ass. Shit." You say emphasizing your words with your hands. "There was this tapping going on, and then something told me to get out, and then he fucking made the window explode." You say, trying your hardest not to sound like a madman. It doesn't work. Your bro looks at you like you grew seven dragon heads. You sigh, giving up under his gaze. "I don't know what happened." You say tiredly. He nods, looks at the mess, and walks out. "I'm gonna get a broom. Don't get cut by any glass while i'm gone." He says while walking down the hall and down the stairs. You're amused at Bro's sometimes motherly behavior.

When he comes back, you help him clean up the glass and you both go back to sleep. The next morning you wake up feeling like a truck hit your face. You roll out of bed and slump over to the bathroom. You look at your reflection in the mirror and notice that theres a sticky note stuck to your forehead. You pull it off and read it. It says, "Went to go get food and shit. Also a new window because apparently we have a casper the not so friendly window smasher in our house. XOXO Bro." You huff and throw the note in the trashcan by the sink. 

You take a shower and get dressed, and then you go back to your room and boot up your computer. After about 30 minutes of adding hilariously ironic bullshit to your comic, your computer freezes. "Aw hell no." You say shaking the computer console. Suddenly, a word text document opens by itself, and the keyboard starts typing. You read the large text and roll your eyes. GET OUT about a million times without spaces. You lean back in your chair. "Come on really? Can you be any more cliche? I mean seriously, that is textbook ghost douchyness. Really, straight out of the ghost douche handbook." You say, bored. "I thought you were a more original guy. To be honest I'm kind of disappointed." You twirl your headphones around your finger. There's another gust of wind behind you and the voice whispers in your ear,  _"Would it be more original if I snapped your neck?"._  "I don't know bro, seems kind of overdone to me. Besides, haven't you seen that Patrick Swayze movie? You can't manipulate objects unless you're either A, really angry, or B, a major ghost douche extrordinaire. You don't seem very angry to me right now, and no offense but you're not exactly a ghost douche extrordiniare yet, but you're getting there." You say matter-of-factly.  _"I could get angry."_ The voice says in your ear. "Well now it just sounds like you're trying to seduce me." You say wiggling your eyebrows.

_"You wish."_

"Depends on how far you're willing to go."

 

_"You're a moron."_

"Thank you."

 

_"Whatever. I'll leave you alone for now, but I'll be back later."_

_  
_"I'll be waiting, you dirty boy." You say in a girly seductive voice. An invisible force then knocks over the open bottle of apple juice you were drinking, making it spill all over your desk and onto the floor. "Aw bro that is cold. You don't mess with a man's juice." You say stopping the puddle from touching anything important. The culprit just cackles, and as you hear the sound slowly fade you know you're alone again.

 

 


	2. Trouble getting to the douche dimension

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry about how short this is, but I'm a little overwhelmed to say the least. I never thought that so many people would read what I wrote. The response was so amazing. A huge thank you to everyone who gave kudos or commented, and to everyone who read it. You all are so amazing. I have to think through all the other things I have lined up for the story, so it will take a while to get my bearings, but I think it's safe to say I will have a chapter up once a week. No promises though. Again, thank you for reading! Also bonus points to anyone who can figure out who Dave's going to talk to about his predicament. *Wonk wonk*

It's now been a week since you met ghost dude, and it's definitely been a ride to remember. Along with the stupid shit that he does just to piss you off, like hiding your socks or keeping you awake at night by singing One Direction songs, you've realized he's not that bad a guy. He may be the most annoying ghost in this universe, but at least he hasn't tried to kill you. You still don't know what he looks like, because he's refused to show himself to you, but that's something you can live with. For now. 

He's usually around you all the time, never leaving you alone. He's still set on trying to make you leave, but you've made it quite clear that you're not going to, so it can't be long until he gives up.

His routine consists of waking you up in the buttcrack of dawn by screaming in your ears the lyrics to 'Staying Alive', and then making the water in the shower as hot as the burning piss of satan. Then he usually just follows you around and talks to you about who knows what. You've gotten quite used to it now.

Today, however, none of that happened. You woke up peacefully at your own time, and had a nice normal shower. It's been quiet. Most would be relieved, but you're a little put off by it. For some reason, you haven't seen ghost dude at all today, and it's not normal. You've gotten accustomed to him being around, and you kind of miss his annoying derpy voice whispering in your ear. That sounded way weirder than you thought it would. Anyway, you're off to find ghost dude, and bring balance to the house. You start by looking in the places you think ghosts would hang out, like the basement and the attic. You start off in the basement first, but nothing's in there but bro working on his robotics and shit. So you start off for the attic. You stop in front of the tiny door that leads to the attic, and turn the knob slowly. It creaks open and reveals a stairway going up. The whole place is pitch black, but at the top of the stairs, you can see the glow of some blue light. It's powerful enough to illuminate the entirety of the attic, and it's pulsating. You start up the stairs slowly, and as you near the top, you can hear faint sobbing. You peek your head out into the attic, and there, sitting in the swirling, twinlking blue light, is a boy. He has black hair and is wearing a white t-shirt and khaki shorts. He's sitting with his knees up to his face and his face is hidden in his knees. He's crying. With every sob he takes, the light around him grows dimmer, and then goes back to it's powerful blue glow. He looks completely solid and real, but there's something about him that seems celestially supernatural, so you know he's probably a ghost. Is this the ghost that's been tormenting you for a week? He looks completely harmless from here. You step out into the attic fully, and the boy's head snaps up and turns towards you. Your breath hitches. His face is streaked with tears, but nevertheless, he's beautiful. His face is perfect. His eyes though, are completely blank. 

As soon as he sees you, he shrinks further back into the attic. You take a step back, and put up your hands. "Woah bro calm down, I come in peace." You say with a smirk. He scoffs and wipes the tears off of his face.  _"Why are you up here, Dave."_ He says. You lean up against the beam next to you, and cross your arms. "There was a loss of ghost douche in my life, so I went to find a replacement, and I guess I found the original." You say with a hint of sarcasm. He looks surprised.  _"You were looking for me? Why?"_  You stand up straight and put your hands in your pockets. "I needed to remind you to pay child support. Me and junior are going to disney land." You say. He snorts.  _"Whatever, Dave."_ He says, and you change the subject. "Anywho, why were you crying, oh ghostly one." His smile disappears and he slumps slightly.  _"It doesn't matter."_ He says sadly. "I don't know it kind of does, especially if it's something I can use later when you choose to deprive me of sleep using bad pop music." You say trying to lighten the mood. He giggles.  _"You have to admit that's pretty good."_ He says proud of himself. "Not for the one on the other end." You say. "So what's wrong with you?" You ask. He sighs.  _"I don't want to be here anymore. I just want to move on, but I can't. I don't know how. That's what's wrong with me."_ He says. You rub your chin. "I can do that." You say finally. His head snaps up and he looks at you.  _"Do what?"_ He asks. " I can help you move on." You say more specifically. His face brightens up at your words and he soars upward, floating in the air above you. You step back, a little startled, but you smirk, amused at his happiness.

He smiles wide down at you.  _"Really?!"_ He asks, excitedly. You nod and say, "Yeah, sure, as long as you trash your morning routine, and the nightly x factor auditions." You say. He smiles even wider.  _"Anything. I'll do anything. Thank you Dave!"_ You can't help but smile, but it's a small one, that's barely noticeable. You like seeing him so happy. But now you have to figure out how you're going to put him to rest. After you think about it for a moment, you know just who you're going to have to talk to about this.


	3. Talking with a therapist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave goes to talk with Rose. Shit happens.

You look up at the tall, modern looking building. It definitely fits the description of somewhere Rose would live. No matter the different last name or different dad, she's still a part of the strider bloodline, which means she has class. You walk up to the big glass doors and pull one of them open, slipping inside and walking into the giant marble lobby. You're thankful for the warmth that greets you when you get inside. The college systems may be better here but damn is it cold. You walk up to one of the many elevators that line the insides of the lobby and press the button next to it. After a few seconds there's a short and sharp "Ding!" and the doors slide open. You're greeted with the usual cheery and repetitive elevator music as you step inside the small room. The doors slide shut and you can feel the elevator gliding upwards to the tenth floor, where your condescendingly perceptual sister is waiting for you. You step out of the elevator and make your way to the apartment marked 237. When you stop in front of the plain brown door decorated with the previously mentioned three numbers, you raise your hand to knock. Before your knuckles even reach the point of contact though, the door swings open, revealing a smirking rose.

She has her hand on her hip, her lavender eyes looking you over. "Hello, David." She says, her musically soft voice hitting your ears like velvet. "I told you before Rose, my name is not and never will be David." You say, slight annoyance flavoring your words. It's a recurring nickname that she's given you, and to say the least, it's not a name you have the taste for. The smirk on her black painted lips just grows bigger. She turns, gesturing for you to come in. You follow her silent instructions. "So, Dave, what gives me the pleasure of having you in my company today." She says with her usual formality. You shrug. "Maybe I just wanted to see my darling sister. For, you know, bonding." You say, sitting yourself on one of her plush white couches and propping your feet up on the coffee table. "Don't play games, brother. We both know it was you who called me, asking for advice on your so called 'difficult subject'." She says, sitting on one of her matching white armchairs and glancing warningly at your red converse, now sitting crossed on her glass coffee table. You heed her warning and take your feet off of the small table. You lean forward and look at her. "Well, let's just say that the last few days have been pretty weird, and I've discovered something that I need your word on." You say. "Is it about Dirk? Or the move?" She asks. "Naw, not any of that. Something weirder." You say, still not sure if the whole telling Rose about your weird ghost buddy is a good thing or not. She sighs. "Please evaluate, Dave." She says, getting impatient. You decide you're too far gone now to deflect, so you tell her. "I need some advice from you regarding your expanded knowledge of the supernatural." You say. Her eyebrows raise. "The supernatural? Why would you need advice for that?" she says, curious. "Well... I may or may not have a ghost in the house me and Bro just moved into." You say slowly, watching her expression carefully. You can practically see the gears turning in her head, picking away at your words and analyzing their meaning. Finally, her deep lavender eyes settle on yours, though you don't know how, as they're covered by the dark plastic of your shades. She always seems to find them. A small smirk rises on her lips. "Tell me more about this _ghost_ , Dave." She says, still slightly sceptic of the subject, though it's one she's spent hours devoting her time to researching all about. 

You proceed to tell her the entire story, from the day you moved in, to today. She listens eagerly, immersed in it, and you can tell she believes you completely now. There's no way she can't. She's always believed in lingering souls. She's talked your ear off about them. That's why you know she can help you. When you finish, she folds her hands in her lap and leans backward. "This is very interesting. So you came to me because you don't know how to get him to pass on." She says as a statement waiting to be verified. You nod. She smiles. "Dave, I'm kind of disappointed. I thought you've seen enough horror movies to know how to get a ghost to go to the other side. You just have to have him fulfill whatever lost wish he had before he left. There has to be something tying him to the living world." She says matter of factly. You roll your eyes. "They never interested me enough for me to pay attention." You say, aloof. You look at rose and she's smirking, a knowing look on her face. "Dave..." She says. "Shut up. Okay, you know I hate horror movies. That's not the point. Back to the topic at hand, I'm supposed to get him to 'fulfill his lost wishes' or whatever, but that's the problem. He's my age. He's young and inexperienced. He probably doesn't even know what his wishes are." You say. "Have you ever asked him?" She says. "Well... Not really." You say. "Well then, that's the problem. Ask him, Dave." She says, standing up. You stand up too. "Fine. I'll probably be back, though." You say heading for the door. "Oh, there's no need. I'm coming with you." She says, and you stop in your way to the door and turn, looking at Rose. She's putting her jacket on. "What? Why?" You ask. Her purple eyes flit back up to yours. "I've never met a ghost before. I also need to see him with my own eyes before I stop thinking in the back of my head that you're crazy." She says nonchalantly. You shrug. "Fine. Whatever floats your weirdo boat. I'm not crazy either." You say, and you both head out the door, and over to the house that should be yours but instead still belongs to something beyond human.

Bro isn't at home when you get there. You assume he's out getting supplies for some project of his. It's better that he's not home anyway. When you and Rose step in the house the air seems stale. You walk up to your room, but there's no ghost boy, so you go to the attic, where he seems to be hanging out lately. Just as you hoped, he was there floating in front of the small window overlooking the front yard of the house. When you come in and he senses your presence, he turns towards you and his eyes widen. _"Dave? Who is that."_ He asks. You look over to Rose and she's aimlessly looking around the attic. Can she see him? It doesn't look like it. "Hey bro, this is my sister Rose. I brought her to help with getting you to, you know, pass on, or whatever." You say. His face brightens. He floats down to the ground. "Dave, who are you talking to?" Rose says. You look at her. "Wait, you can't see him?" You say. She looks at you worryingly. "Rose. I'm not crazy. He's right there. You just can't see him for some reason." You say, trying desperately to keep her faith in your mental health at a good level. Ghost bro looks at her and then you and looks confused. _"She can't see me? But you can, why can't she?"_ He asks. You look at him. "I don't know, man. It's weird." You say. He looks worried for a second but then brightens up.  _"I can prove I'm here. I'll do something."_ He says. You nod in agreement to his idea. Rose is looking at you with a strange look on her face. A mix of worry and confusion. "He's gonna do something to prove that he's here, okay? Just watch the room." You say. She looks away from you and back to the attic. Ghost dude waits for a second, looking at the different options in the room before he settles on one object. He walks over to a large chandalier that's laying on the ground, and stops in front of it. He looks at you and then focuses on the chandalier. He sticks out his hand in front of it, and a blue glowing mist starts to spread from his fingertips, and like a snake, twists it's way down to one of the small crystals that line the chandalier. You watch the blue mist as it circles the crystal, and then abruptly, it gently taps on the crystal, making a dinging noise. Then, the arm of blue mist grows other arms, and they spread around the crystals of the chandalier. They all tap on the crystals at different times, resulting in a beautiful haunting music filling the entire attic, and echoing off the walls, making it sound even better. You look at rose, and she's in awe. She stares at the chandalier, dumbfounded, but pleased. You stare at it too, and the way the ghost boy's fingers move with the beat, controlling the blue mist, and making it tap on the crystals. After a few minutes, he stpos and turns toward you beaming. He really is adorable, and that was amazing. You look back at rose, and she's looking at you. "Where is he?" She asks. You walk over to where the ghost boy is standing and stand beside him. You point in his general direction beside you. He giggles. "He's right there." You say. She nods. "What is his name?" She asks.

You freeze. You don't know. You never thought to ask. You look at him with the question on your face, and he smiles.  _"It's John. John Egbert"_  He says. You smirk. John is a pretty normal name, but Egbert? You think you've never heard a funnier sounding name. You look back to her and say, "It's John." She nods. "Do you mind translating?" She asks you. You nod, and she looks at the empty spot next to you. She smiles. "Hello, John, my name is Rose Lalonde. I'm Dave's sister through short familial relations. It's very nice to meet you." You look at John. He smiles even wider. "Hello, Rose!" You note that he's much more friendly now than you've ever seen him, especially since that night that you found him in the attic. You repeat what he says to Rose and she smiles. Rose goes to say something else but before she can, there's a ding and a buzz and Rose takes her cell phone out of her pocket. She reads what's on it quickly, and her expression changes for only a moment before she looks back up, and smiles again at you both. "Well, boys, it seems I have to go. It's a shame. It's been very nice meeting you, John. If only it could've lasted longer. Dave, I need to talk to you for a moment." You look at John once again, and see his floating form beaming cutely at Rose, and you walk over to her. She hugs you curtly, but before she lets go, she lingers for a moment beside your ear, and whispers, "Ask him. Deep down he must know." You look at her, but her expression is the same. She smiles at you and nods and you nod back, in silent agreement. Then she leaves, and you're left alone with John. You turn to him. Only yesterday was when you found him up here. You decide it's time for you to get to know him, since it's kind of vital to you helping his passing on. You walk over to one of the chairs that's covered in sheets, and pull it off, tossing it on the floor. You sit and he floats over to you, sitting cross legged in the air in front of you. He's still wearing that stupid grin. He looks much better this way, you decide. Other than the first version of him that you met, tear streaked and miserable. "So, Egbert is it? That was some pretty sweet stuff you did in here earlier." You say, cutting the silence smoothly with your voice. He looks at you confused for a moment, until he realizes you meant the scene with the chandalier earlier.  _"I dunno. It wasn't that cool. I guess I was kind of showing off though."_ He says humbly, rubbing the back of his neck as he did so. "How did you do it, even?" You ask.  _"I used to play the piano. Before, you know."_  He says, hesitating at the end. "Yeah, about that. How exactly did it happen. You know, the whole dying thing." You ask. He shrugs.  _"I can't really remember that much, but I think it's tied to the kitchen downstairs somehow, because I can never go in there. Whenever I get close, I get a bad_ feeling." He says. You suddenly get an idea. "Maybe that's what's stopping you from going to the other side. Maybe you have to know how you died first. It must have been brutal though, otherwise I don't think you would have such trouble with it." You say. He looks at you uneasily.  _"You really think so? I don't really want to know."_ He says. "Well, if you don't try, you'll never know. I'll be there the whole time, so it's not like you have to go it alone either." You say. He smiles at you.  _"I guess. Thanks, Dave. By the way, why are you helping me? I thought after all that I did to drive you out, you would've hated me."_ He says. You smirk. "I'm not one to hold grudges bro. If I was, I'd have a lot of enemies by now." You say. He nods, and you start off for downstairs, with him following silently behind.

When you get to the living room you stop and look back. John is walking on the ground now. He looks kind of sick. "Hey bro, are you sure you can do this?" You say. He looks up at you and smiles weakly. _"Yeah I'm fine. It will be fine"_ He says. "Okay, but if it's too much for you, tell me." You say, and he nods again. You walk closer and you're practically at the doorway of the kitchen. You look back again. Now you know he's not okay. He looks sicker than you've ever seen a person before, and ge's kind of slumped over. He's clutching his stomach and you can tell for the first time that he's a ghost. He looks sickly and pale, and slightly transparent. Every few moments you see his image flicker. "Okay man, bullshit you're fine. Look at yourself. You look like you just ate an entire village and went on the titanic. We don't have to do this if you really can't." You say.  _"No I can't stop now. This is closer than I've ever been and it might help me move on. I'm not stopping."_ He says. "Well, okay, but at this point you look like you're going to collapse. Here..." You say, moving towards him. You hesitate, but then take hold of his arm and swing it over your shoulder. You're surprised you could actually make contact with him. He's colder than anything, but he's solid. You could hardly believe he was a ghost if he wasn't transparent looking right now. He's surprised at it too, you can see at first, but he soon accepts it and slumps against you. You can feel him shivering. You lead him to the doorway slowly, keeping him upright. You stop when you're almost inside. "Are you ready?" You say. He takes a sharp breath, and says, _"Yes. I can do this."_

_  
_You take a deep breath and bring him inside. You can feel him cringe against you. You look around, and your eyes widen in surprise. The whole place has changed. It all looks flickery and old, like an old silent film, but with color. You look at john and he's looking around, confused just as you are. Then you realize that this must be one of his memories. Probably the one with his death in it, and you can actually see it. You're living it with him and you don't know why, but you're not left to dwell on it, because someone enters the room. Except he doesn't look normal like you and John. He looks flickery and old like the rest of the kitchen. It's a man, wearing a fedora, and with a pipe sticking out of his mouth. John gasps beside you, and you look at him. His eyes are wide with recognition. _"That's my dad."_ He says, dumbfounded. You look back at the man. This is John's dad? You look at him more closely, and you decide you see the family resemblance. Actually, paired with the dark hair and smile, they look almost the same. He's carrying a cake, and he's smiling wide. He sets it on the small round table in the middle of the room. Then he leaves and comes back, except now there's a boy with him. It's John. He's wearing a blindfold, smiling and groping the air in front of him. His dad is leading him to the table. He pulls out one of the chairs and sits him down in it, then he goes to the other side of the table and pulls out a camera. This must be John's birthday. Then his dad speaks, though the sound is distant. He says, "You can take the blindfold off now, John.". John giggles and unties the back. The blindfold falls to his lap, and your mouth drops open. You've never seen John's eyes before. They're blank and white on the John that's resting on your side, but on this one, you can clearly see the big irises that dominate his eyes, and they're the biggest clearest crystal blue. You stare in awe at the sparkling expanse of blue. You've never seen a color like it. You're snapped out of your daze by John beside you. He's slumped down even farther now, and he's groaning softly. He's still watching the memory play out, though. You Prop him up against you more, and let his head fall limply onto your shoulder. That side of you is pretty much numb from the cold now, you realize. Your attention goes back to the scene in front of you. Now, John is just blowing out the candles while his dad takes a picture. It seems just like a normal memory to you. You don't see how this could be strange, until suddenly, theres a crash as the kitchen door slams open, startling both John and his dad. A small, crazy looking man comes in, holding a gun and pointing it John's dad. John is shaking against you now, mirroring the John in the memory, who's terrified big blue eyes stare at the gun now pointing at his dad's head. His dad's hands are put up, and the man is now speaking slurred words at him. You can't exactly decifer what he's saying at first, but you make out that they're brothers, and that apparently John's dad inherited the will left by their mother, and he's not quite happy about it. He's talking about their childhood, and how John's dad has to pay for being the favorite in the family. At first it looks as if he's about to shoot John's dad, but at the last possible moment the gun's barrel points towards John and there's a harsh crack and a bang. Your heart stops for a moment and John is shaking violently next to you, as you see the bullet hit John straight in the chest and hear his small yelp, and his dad's screaming. John falls to the floor, and the man is laughing. John's dad rushes to his side, falling to his knees next to him. Big fat tears are streaming down his face. He's still screaming. You walk forward, John shaking even more violently. You see John's dad cradling John in his arms. John's eyes are half closed. He's nearly gone. As you get closer you hear something. You realize it's singing. It's coming from John's dad. He's singing a lullaby to his son in his last moments. It's tear choked and scratchy, and his dad is shaking, tears splashing on John's shirt. You look at John's beautiful face, pale and crying, as he watches his dad. You look at his eyes. How did this happen? As you watch the light slowly leave those big blue sparkling eyes, you remember how happy they were. You're suddenly filled with sadness for John, and especially his dad. You don't want to watch this memory anymore, and you know John doesn't want to either, so you turn away, shielding John from watching himself die. You hurry out of the kitchen and into the living room, but you don't stop. You keep going until you're upstairs in the attic.

John falls to the floor in a heaping mess. He's shaking more than ever now. Despite all that's happened, you keep yourself calm. You walk slowly over to him, and crouch down. "John? Are you alright?" You say. He looks up at you, but doesn't say anything. He's panting and still shaking, but still all he does is stare. You look at the big white expanse of his eyes and think of the boy in the memory. The boy with the big gleaming blue orbs taking up the space of that white. The boy who was smiling and laughing with is dad on his birthday but then was left in his father's arms, with the light dying from those lively eyes, as the red spot on his chest grew bigger and bigger. You sit then, next to John. He looks away, and to the floor. All you both do is sit there, waiting, or maybe just resting. Who knows. Who knows what will happen. All you know is what has already happened, and that didn't go so well, so all there is to do now... is sit.

                                            

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Argh. This chapter is so not canon, I'm so sorry. All that can be said is that I suck. Oh well, whoever enjoys this, thank you so much. Really, thank you more than anything. I will try my hardest to get the next chapter up soon.


	4. I'm sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A horrible person decides to finally update her short lived fanfic

Okay, so basically a year after stopping regular updates to this story without any explanation, I have finally decided to give some kind of a reason for this very long hussie like pause. This fanfic is in no way popular and compared to a lot of other fics isn't well known at all, however it has gotten attention, and people have seemed to like it. To be honest I didn't expect it to get any attention at all, and didn't really plan to keep it going for a long time, but then it started getting noticed. It made me really happy to see that, but at the same time freaked me out a bit because I felt if I had made one mistake everyone would hate it. This paired with the fact that school was happening and continuing it would mean I would have to take out time to do it, and though I know a lot of people have had those kinds of sacrifices made for the sake of their fanfics or art, I just couldn't really handle the pressure. Also at the time I was having a huge writers block with everything I was working on, and I couldn't really see how the story could play out the way I had written it at first. So all of that caused this little fanfic, which was the first I'd ever written and posted, to be left in the dust and forgotten. I can't express how bad I felt every time I'd see another kudos or comment made on it by new readers who were passing by, while I knew I wasn't going to continue it. Well, what's given me the courage to actually respond to it rather than deleting it and forgetting it once and for all, was my sister. She loved my fanfic when I was writing it, and I actually started another one with the same theme for her, but still couldn't get it right. So I decided to revisit this old project, and I read it to her. While reading it aloud I actually realized the potential it had that I couldn't see while I was writing it, and it inspired me again to continue it a bit more. It won't be long and I'm sure not a lot of people will read the last parts of it, but just to put my mind at rest and give it a proper ending to rest in piece, it's the least I can do.


	5. My Lantern In The Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is in his worst state possible, and Dave doesn't know what to do.

Cold, bright, uncomfortable. Those are the first thoughts that transfer to your brain as you open your eyes, squinting in the light that’s filled whatever place you’re in. You’re lying on a hard surface and you know you’ve been asleep, but you don’t know where. Opening your eyes fully as they adjust to the light you see now that you’re in the attic still. You must’ve just stayed there and fallen asleep after what happened last night, but as you slowly sit up, your muscles sore from the hard attic floor and a crick in your neck, there’s no tiny ghost boy to be seen in the small space of the dusty attic. You stand up and dust yourself off. Last night was a mess, and you don’t think you even did anything that helped John. Speaking of, you had better find him. You slowly get up on your feet, stretch, and set off to find your ghost. You look around the attic first, then every room in the house, but still no sign that the house was even haunted once. The only room you haven’t checked yet is yours, but at this point you’re close to giving up. Either what happened actually did help in some way for him to pass on, or you’ve unintentionally sent him to ghost hell or something. Standing in your room that for some unknown reason smells like a mixture of cake and apples, you decide to look again for John. After looking in the closets, behind the curtains, and in every nook and cranny you could think of, you give up. You flop down onto your bed. You’re beginning to think he maybe didn’t even exist at all. Maybe you really are crazy. After all of your collecting of dead things you actually imagined one up to make up for your loneliness. Rose would have a field day if she could hear your thoughts right now. Wait, that’s right, Rose. She saw it too right, with the crystal thingy and the weird supernatural shit, so you must not be making all of it up.

In all of your mad psycho mental babbling, you fail to notice the faint shallow breathing coming from underneath you. You freeze, listening carefully. It’s coming out in small wheezy breaths and coming from right underneath you. Instead of feeling fear like most would after hearing something like this, a flicker of hope sparks inside of you. You jump up and swing yourself over to the edge of the bed and poke your head under. Lifting up the covers of the bed and looking underneath your bed, you found exactly what you were looking for, but you’re not sure whether you should be relieved or worried. You guess you’re feeling both right about now. Curled up in the underneath of your bed, blanketed in the soft blue glow of his own ghostly aura, was John. He looked as small as ever, frail and sick. You quietly transitioned yourself onto the ground to get a better look at him there huddled and shivering. The feeling you got rushing over you in waves seeing him there was frosty and painful. His face was fully visible there in the blue light. It was contorted in pain, and it actually hurt you seeing him like that, as if you had known him for years. Like he was your best friend once a long time ago even though you had just met him, when he was already dead. His eyes were closed tightly, but as you barely choked out his name, they snapped open, a sea of white staring straight into you. “ _D-dave_ ” You could barely hear him, but just him saying your name looking like that made you want to scream. Why are you so affected? He violently shivered and winced, closing his eyes again. You reached in and tried to grab him, and just like before you could feel his cold bare skin as you wrapped your fingers around his arm, tugging him gently towards you. You carefully pulled him out from underneath the bed, all the while wincing at his small cries of pain at the movement. Then he was there in front of you, still huddled, hugging himself and shivering with more and more ferocity as time went on. You couldn’t handle this anymore, it bothered you too much seeing him like this. You pulled him up to you, embracing him tightly, in a desperate attempt to lessen his pain, to warm him even though you knew it wasn’t possible. You held him to your shoulder, and wrapped your arms around his small freezing figure. You didn’t care about how cold he was, you didn’t care that he was dead, you didn’t care about anything other than the fact that this ghost boy who you met through his outrageous pranks and giant smile, was now in unbearable pain, because of what you thought would help him. You felt entirely responsible for this, and you knew you needed to fix it somehow.

Still holding him closely to you, supporting him with one arm you reached into your pocket to take out your cell phone. Speed dial two, Rose. It rang three times before you heard a click and your sister’s velvety voice coming through. You didn’t even process what she said at first because you were trying too hard to form words. “Dave? Hello?” You heard her say and you finally spat out “Rose, please, come over now I need your help you should know how to fix this” Only a second after did you realize how panicked you sounded. Who would’ve thought that you, master of the poker face and stoic demeanor was now in shambles because of a ghost you found in your house that for some reason you care about intensely. Rose didn’t say anything, and hung up quickly. You know that she knew how bad the situation was because of your voice, and you knew that she would come. You let your phone fall to the floor next to you, and you pulled John even closer to you. You felt his shaking form in your arms and against your chest and you held him even tighter. Then you felt his arms wrap themselves around your torso, underneath your sweatshirt. He hugged you tightly, and you returned that. If it was any comfort to him you wanted to give him at least that. You still couldn’t believe you were acting like this, but it seemed like you were running on autopilot at this point. You were acting on pure instinct and that instinct right now happens to be to comfort this hurting ghost friend that you’ve grown so attached to. Looking back now, his presence gave you comfort from almost the beginning. Past the death threats at your first meetings, turning into his relentless pranking, and finally to him revealing himself to you and asking for help, he got rid of that always lingering sense of loneliness that you’ve been carrying your whole life almost instantly whenever he was in the room. He filled something that you were missing for such a long time, and every time you saw him or heard him speak, unidentifiable memories flitted past your brain unable to be read. As if he was some kind of a memory of someone that you knew a long time ago, but have forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay first of all I am so, so sorry about how long it took me to put out this chapter. I just opened a new word document last week, wrote like one sentence, and then stared at it for an hour, I had absolutely no idea how I was going to do anything in the story for a week. Then tonight, at the prime time of 1:17 AM, while having my B2ST albums on repeat and summoning the gods of the word thingies, I have actually finished this chapter and like two more after power writing for an hour riding on a powerful surge of inspiration and motivation. It's an absolute miracle. Also unfortunately because of that, if it sucks and there's a bunch of typos, it's because I did write it while I've been awake for almost 24 hours. I really, really, really hope that it's good enough. This is probably the first time in months that I've actually started writing again, and I feel like I got really bad in that time but let's hope for the best. (Oh yeah I still don't know how to properly space wow I'm trash)


End file.
